Blog Therapy #5: Why am I ashamed?

Hello there.

Let me start off with: I graduated from college. I’m married, I have a 5 year old son. I live in the insanity that is Los Angeles and I love it. I’m a young 33 years old. And I have something that over time I grow ashamed of which I wish I could just get the *beep* over.

I have been at my job for 10 years.

It’s totally unheard of for someone my age in such a large city, in a creative field to have the same job for 10 years, right? I’ve used all teh same excuses over and over to explain. 1) They were extremely flexible when I was helping my boyfriend (now husband) deal with cancer and I was so new here I had no vacation time. 2) When I got pregnant unexpectedly and life outside work changed, they are still totally reliable and flexible with emergencies and time off. 3) I’m pretty well respected and often praised for my work. Before the damn recession, I was rewarded (albeit small) when I jumped in and help out when other magazines or projects were derailing. 4) It’s atleast a somewhat  creative outlet, and though not always fun, it’s not flipping burgers, or restocking shelves or listening to an asshole boss scream at me day after day. Yes there are some tasks I’ve grown so accustomed to I feel I can do them in my sleep, but there are downtimes when I can surf the net or relax, or run out shopping for props and then style photo shoots, or now jump on learning something new (Web, Flash) which might benefit the company, and me at the same time.

Then why do I feel so ashamed to still be here?

I’m in the Art Department and there does tend to be a lot more turnover in the other departments. When new people come in, I end up getting to know them or I have to work with them, and the moment they start to complain about the lameness of the place, that’s when I start feeling low. They’ll make it sound so bad or uncool here, and yeah, I get it and usually agree.  That’s the signal for the heavy 10 YEARS to fall from the sky and smack me in the head and suddenly it is I that is also incredibly lame.

I haven’t taken much inititive to even go interview on any new jobs. I don’t have much faith in myself or my abilities and as the years pass, and I look at the job sites, I see them wanting new or different things from my job title. It scares me for a lot of reasons. I’m not overly ambitious, I just want a job I like that doesn’t work me to death so I can have a life aside from it. I’m not a person who wants my career to be my life, but I definitely want to have one. I want it to be creative yet safe. Something that doesn’t scare me every morning about having to go in that day.

And now with this economy, I would want something that wont have me chasing down the next job because this one didn’t last.

So why do I let others and myself get me so depressed time and time again, by the mere fact that I’ve been at this company for a long time?

 

You know what they say about assuming….

During a recent conversation with my dad, he thought it a bit strange that after telling me his story about a neighbor with a 1 year old who was about to deliver twins, I would react with a fervent “oh *bleep* that’s like my worst nightmare!” But I think I may understand the misconception that he has of me, as I’ve encountered this before. It’s the idea that just because I am a mother, that I have a child, I should love children and want to have more.

[Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes after that loud fit of laughter.]

Naturally, I am quite fond of children, and have always known that I wanted to be a mother. I babysat often in my teen years, and while I certainly had my favorites, I also had those whose parent’s would call and I suddenly wanted to jump off a cliff just to get out of it. When I worked a county parks & recreation job one summer where I had to watch over a particular city park for a few hours while providing activities and crafts, I learned something important about myself. I adopted favorites. I treated them well and almost always took their side. But to those who had crossed me, I let whatever they had done shape how they were treated for the entire summer. They annoyed me. I held grudges. I probably doled out a few unfair judgements. Life lesson: never work with children.

Now that I have a child of my own who has grown out of the more “forgiving” baby stage, and therefore has friends that have as well, I realize I haven’t changed much. Just because I have a kid, it does not mean I will like your kid. Or want to take on watching 3 or 100 kids, even for an hour. By the time they start learning wrong from right and can communicate with more than drool and cries, they start showing off that little person that I either warm to immediately or really don’t want to deal with. It’s a bit like I look at them how I would adults. I get my initial read off them, and my feelings will then change over time, based on their good or bad behavior. And the bad behavior I tend to hold against them. Also, the more children there are in a closed environment, depending on my mental state for the day, the more agitated or annoyed I will be. I don’t find them all to be wonderfully charming and full of such vital energy (though I agree they’ve cornered the market on that one), not even my own child, who we are sure to take aside when he’s acting up. Chuck E. Cheese and I should probably never meet up in a dark alleyway, and overcrowded amusement parks leave me packing for the sanitarium at the end of the day. The reason I do not want to volunteer to be in charge of a bunch of kids is: I don’t want to lose my shit in front of your “darlings”.

On the subject of actually having any more children, that one should never be harped on. Among the many things I’ve learned about myself over the years, this seems very plausible: I have the choice between being the anxious/emotional/half-crazed GOOD mom to ONE child or a severely depressed/certifiably crazy BAD mother to a FEW children. Add in cost of living, making a marriage and family work and knowing that just because you give your child a sibling it doesn’t guarantee a beautiful bonding experience, and it makes the decision not to have more that much easier.

So to anyone still unclear as to why I am not having anymore children:  I’m the one that has to raise them, not you. You’ve got enough to do over their with your own. And you’ve got to whip them into shape if I’m going to like them.

 

Idiotic Blogging To Resume

Not much has been written in awhile. Here’s the situation. Right around the time Kieran started Kindergarten, and I was freaking out about that, I caught the cold that never ended. Actually, it turned itself into a Sinus Infection, something that I have never encountered before. I let myself go for weeks, until realizing this was not normal, and finally hauled my ass to to the doctor right as I was entering a downward spiral into the worst head/body aches, fatigue and icky cough I’ve had. Lovely, right?
So, it’s now Mid October, and I’m almost over the cough! Woo! It’s been one of those things where one thinks “will I ever feel normal again?” Except that I’m never really sure what normal is. HA.
During all of this I have been taking a friday night 3 hour web class, attempting the gym at ungodly hours, learning Flash ON MY OWN, taking on hefty projects at work, dealing with homework and paperwork and all that comes along with Kieran-In-School, and Pee Wee Soccer.

Damnit, can’t I just go back to lazy summers at the beach and attending concerts?

 

Another evening with Jenny.

Just added Ray LaMontagne with the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra • Jenny Lewis • Blitzen Trapper to my hot hot summer music schedule. Of course, I’m really on there for the great time of picnicing and socializing [that the Hollywood Bowl is known for] and Jenny Lewis. But I’m open to hearing some new music as well.

Ye-haw!

 

Serious crime? Seriously?

Can I ask a minute of your time for an honest opinion about something?

Say there is this 13 year old boy. He’s a good student. He might be a little mouthy to his parents at times, nothing more than most kids his age. He’s not perfect, but deep down he is a very good kid, with a big heart who has excellent grades.
Now say he’s on a school trip that takes a group of students his age away from home for a couple days. The purpose of this trip is not what is important. Later that evening, this boy is sharing a hotel room with a few others. One of them falls asleep, and the others are still awake. And bored. They start taking stupid pictures with one kid’s camera phone. They are still bored and are feeling cheeky (gasp! a pun!). They decide to play a stupid prank by having this boy’s hindquarters photographed near the sleeping kid’s face. A very close moon caught on another teens camera phone.

Fast forward to after the trip when the sleeping kid tells his parents and the parents decide to press charges, causing a world of trouble for this boy and his parents. His parents look into a lawyer. Next thing we know, this boy is expelled from his school for sexual harassment. Yes, you read that right, sexual harassment for a stupid prank that there is evidence of because they idiotically took a picture. Oh, I did mention that they are 13, right?

My beef is this: I understand handing out punishment. If the sleeping kid who got pranked wanted to tell his parents because he didn’t want the photo to get out, didn’t want the embarrassment, I sympathize. And so I can visualize all the parents getting together and talking about some form of punishment for the two pranksters. But pressing charges? Has it really come to that? Involving wasted time and money over something that was just two teens being complete idiots? And what about the school board, who apparently didn’t listen to presented evidence, or hear from both sides of this story, just went ahead and expelled this boy, putting sexual harassment on his otherwise clean and academically sound school records. They also assigned him to some juvie-type detention school for kids that actually DID harmfully harass other kids along with sell drugs, etc. Does the punishment really fit the crime?

I guess it’s pretty obvious that for me, no it does not. I am deeply saddened to hear that the “pranked” boy has been getting harrassed and made fun of at school over all of this. But when our “prankster’s” mother asked the Principal if any action was taken against those kids, he had no response. Ah, well. I fear for the future of the “pranked” boy. I do hope if he goes to college he doesn’t plan to go out drinking much, or get too chummy with the guys in the dorms or, dearie me, join a fraternity!

To think of all the times in my own childhood I, or my friends, could have gotten others expelled! Feel bad for me, people, when I had to live with a rumor spread around about me involving “rubber gloves” and the nickname “jack handy” for an entire school year, and was subjected to finding actual rubber gloves left on my desk or near my locker. And pity the poor guy in college who, after a night of hard partying, awoke unknowingly to his face covered in lipsticks and eyeshadows, and walked past the party stragglers on his way to the bathroom. Oh the taunts! Or think of my girlfriend, who blossomed into a D cup at age, well, 13, and was branded with the name “Dolly” for many years of her high school life. Or the poor girl who was in a group photo documenting a band outing, perched on the back of a bus seat, legs askew, wearing white shorts and very obviously on her period! And that was published by the school! Oh the horror!

And what about you? Was your childhood perfect? Did you deal with a bit of teasing or being pranked yourself? My point is not that any of this is right, it’s not. These kids could use a bit of strict punishment and some poignant lessons about life. But is this punishment what this boy needs, a boy that I can’t stress enough has never been in trouble and is a very good student, someone you wouldn’t view as having “no potential”, but is only 13 and does not always use common sense? Because what 13 year old does?

 

heavy eyelids

Is it sad that instead of opting for taking a nap out in my car [heat, no breeze, san fernando valley, ugh] I grabbed a pillow and blankey from the prop closet and took a nap under my desk?

I could have stayed there all day. sigh.

 

It’s hard being a celebrity….lookalike.

Interior-—right after sunset—of a Westside CVS. I am standing in line when the next availiable cashier waves me over and proceeds to converse with me, very very loudly.

“You know who you look like?!” [Customers heads turn in our direction.]

No. No, please tell me. “Yeah.”

“You look like that girl on How I Met Your Mother! What’s her name?”

Christy Turlington? Ha, in my wildest dreams. “Alyson Hannigan?” Give her the big smirk.

“Ha, you look like you’ve heard that one before.”

Try every time I set foot outside after the release of American Pie. “Yeah.”

“Well she’s cute! You shouldn’t be offended!”

I never said that!! WTF? I just want toilet paper for crying outloud. “Oh no, I’m not offended. She’s definitely cute.” God, does make me sound egotistical?

“I thought to myself, is that HER? HERE?”

Yeah, I’m sure she never sets foot inside a CVS. Are you going to ring up my Charmin and Jack Daniels now? “Ha. ha.”

“Then I thought, ‘Nahhhh.’”

Wow, she’s quick, this one. “Too bad.”

“Yeah. Well, have a nice night.”

You betcha.

 

Another new apartment. This time with granite countertops!

The L.A. Car Show came and went. As did my lovely co-worker, Kimiko’s, final days at CAP, which we warmly sent her off with margaritas and salty chips. Then one weekend the family unit decided to go out apartment searching again and voila! We’re now living in a new(er) 2 bed/2 bath within walking distance of Trader Joes.
Oh, if only it happened so quickly, and easily, as that sounded.
Years ago, when Rice & I moved from the one bedroom to that last apartment, we didn’t have much furniture. But inhabiting the place for 5 years, gave us plenty of time to do some proper furnishing, and cramming of closets. Apparently, 2 bedroom apartments can hold quite a lot. This was something we seemed to over look, or suppress, when we decided to jump on this new place and be out of the old in 19 days. We spent days here and there taking over a few boxes at a time, and after about 10 days of this, it seemed we had barely made a DENT.
Not the smartest plan we ever came up with in the history of Rice and D, we rented a VAN and didn’t ask anyone for help, with the exception of dumping our kid off to the Malloy’s for the entire day. There we were, the 2 of us, hoisting and hauling, overextending and grunting up and down 2 flights of stairs. When the mattress finally made it out the front door and I had to stop because of a cramp in my foot, I was ready to throw in the towel. Yet, by some force or magic “moving man” fairy dust, we made it. We’re now officially all tucked in to the new diggs, with only a few more broken down boxes to trash. It only took, exactly, 24 days.
Next time, I pay for movers.

Thanks to Patti, my co-art dept. worker, we had a holiday party to attend this year. I don’t quite count the CAP holiday party this year, as we’re having some $$ troubles and everything was cut back. Patti’s party was fun for the whole family. Booze, food, Guitar Hero, White Elephant and Pictionary all went very well together.
Throw in hanging out with my sis for New Years (Rice and Chris are heading to the Rose Bowl!!) and it will have been a nice, surprising, yet very chaotic, holiday season.

Peace out,
The Caseñas’

P.S. Please don’t ask about the paint job.

 

Dannie’s Picks ‘08

By now you (the three people that actually read this blog) know that I do my own “Editor’s Choice” picks (see here and here) to mirror the actual Editor’s Choice feature that runs in every December issue of the magazine I work for. This is, again, the wacky Art Director’s choice. Remember kids, Christmas is coming!

Wash Away Your Sins Anti-Bacterial Towelette
When your mother-in-law thinks you’re a heathen, and possibly a walking sin magnet, you’ve got no choice but to seek out some fence-menders. If only to make Christmas dinner a little less psychotic. Well look out mama, because I’ve become a believer with these moist towelettes that kill sins on contact! With a devout wipe, and a spot check for any stubborn guilt, I can discard those sinly buggers in the trash and go forth purified and moisturized. Hallelujah!

Miso Pretty Hot Sake Bubble Bath
There’s usually alcohol involved in my taking a bath. Glass of red wine + bubbles= Dannie’s version of heaven! Therefore, how could not work to put alcohol directly INTO the bath. This bubble bath added enough jiggers of sake and froth while the light fragrance of orchid and vanilla swept me into a tipsy tranquility. A possible drawback? Throwing myself at every sushi bar within a 5 block radius afterward.

Dirty Girl Foot Scrub
Go ahead, touch them. I want you too. I’m flinging off the shoes of tyranny, and showing the world my baby soft bare feet. The exfoliating walnut shell scrubs away my scales while the extra-strong dose of antiseptic tea tree oil soothes my tootsies and keeps away mosquitoes, as well as my cats. Now I can get back into modeling for that foot-fetish site with no embarrassment!

Go Intercourse Yourself Cherry Lip Balm
Yes, it was me in that song by Katy Perry. She kissed me and she liked it. And because of paid endorsements, she had to call it Cherry Chapstick, which was totally inaccurate. I would never wear Cherry Chapstick. I prefer to slather on this Lip Balm, with its smooth brandied cherry flavor and non-petrolium formula. It also provides an added protection of SPF 15, which really helps out in these globally-warmed times. It’s ok Katy, I forgive you. But if you call it Burts Bees next time, we’re over.

Mental Case Soap
I never thought anything would push me over the edge from slightly nutty to mental case. But along came my thirties, my baby becoming a toddler, and dingbats on the freeway who wont turn their blinker off. Along with anti-depressants and vigorous popping of bubble wrap, I found this soap to be exactly my prescription. Fig and apricot gently clean my demons away with many rinses and repeats. If your symptoms include over-achieving, nit-picking, nit-pickiness and hand wringing, you may want to stock up with a warehouse-supply.

La La Land Lotion
There are just too many reasons to give up sometimes and go live in la la land. The evening news. Sarah Palin running for vice-president. Those damn twist ties around 95 percent of your child’s new birthday toy he wants open RIGHT NOW. Oh and forget about it if there’s no batteries! But, stay with me for a second, this Lotion is the equivalent of “Calgon take me away!” Orange and ginger permeate this dreamy cream. I slather it on my body and lose myself in La La, where the colors are bright and cutesy little deer and bunny rabbits snuggle up to me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Here’s the downloadable pdf if you want to see the actual layout. Yeah, I know. The photoshop is bad. It’s supposed to be. Happy Shopping!

 

The featured story on my yahoo page is How To Cook Lasagna in Your Dishwasher.

Well, here’s some of my great ideas that never got any recognition.

How to get rid of zits with your curling iron! (No joke!)

How to clean your contacts with vodka! (Can you believe it?!)

How to cook bacon with your Playstation 3! (And play Little Big Planet at the same time!)

How to make your kid stay asleep with duct tape! (It really works!)

How to have a pleasant visit to your mother-in-laws with special brownies! (Beware of imitation!)